


Bad words, good deeds

by fenrislorsrai



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Nonverbal Communication, Sharing Clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 02:17:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19879954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fenrislorsrai/pseuds/fenrislorsrai
Summary: Nice is a four letter word.  No demon would want something nice or soft. Or do such things in the pursuit of someone that might be described with such words.An inability to actually say things directly leads to showing them instead.





	Bad words, good deeds

They spent several days enjoying the unusually nice weather, eating out, talking about nothing too important, and figuring out what less obvious changes Adam had wrought. Crowley had gone to his flat first evening after dinner to water his plants and sleep, but had showed up slightly after dawn with warm croissants and coffee and had dozed off on couch with sleek steel travel cup in hand. Aziraphale had taken it out of his hand without waking him and spent the morning reading.

He’d made a soft joke of it when Crowley had woken and tried to apologize. “Oh that sunbeam there, it’s gotten you so many times before, what’s one more?” It got Crowley several more days as he stayed up late with Aziraphale and never quite made it back to his flat. 

After nearly a week of that and after a late lunch, Aziraphale suggested they should probably stop by Crowley’s flat and pick up his mail and water his plants. Crowley had looked briefly stricken and mumbled something about dropping Aziraphale off at bookshop “Oh really, I promise I won’t spoil your plants while we are there.” The  _ we _ seemed to quiet Crowley.

There was a ridiculous amount of mail in box which Aziraphale took and shooed off Crowley to go deal with plants. He pretended to not hear Crowley scolding them.

He sorted it on Crowley’s desk based on how it was addressed. He’d picked up mail often enough when Crowley was off doing some mischief that most of them were familiar, but it did give him a chance to see what various fronts the demon had put up. Most contained the word “consulting” or “management” in the title. All the names and businesses here were ones Crowley had before the whole Antichrist thing had started. If he’d made new ones since then, they weren’t in this pile of mail. Or he just hadn’t seen the point in bothering with long term schemes anymore. 

He got to culling the actual junk vs what was probably mail. All the slick cards for equipment and services went. The auction catalogs and the fashion magazine stayed. Bills Crowley probably wouldn’t pay in conventional sense, but would want to be aware of the existence of, got added to the ‘keep’ pile. The bulky hand addressed and rather squashy envelope that smelled faintly of flowers went on top.

The junk all went in the recycling bin that Crowley had tried several different defenses of as being evil but none of them were very convincing. The one about recycled paper was used to make those awful brown paper towel that somehow never actually dried anything was as close as he’d gotten to justifying it as a “demonic plot”. Crowley’s muttering in other room was a more likely explanation as to its presence.

Aziraphale picked up remaining mail and stood in doorway watching Crowley finish up with watering. Crowley turned around and gave him a little huff. “Don’t you be coming in here spoiling them, don’t think I don’t know.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, my dear.” He tipped arm slightly to show Crowley greatly reduced mail stack and saw Crowley’s sudden interest at the hand addressed envelope. “Should I put it back on your desk or are we taking it with us?”

Crowley froze at question. 

“Perhaps on the coffee table instead?”

“Yeah. that makes more sense if… if we’re staying. You’re not going to be bored?”

“I can go get us something to drink while you deal with this.”

“Good idea.”

Mail got deposited on the stylish coffee table by the even more stylish couch that was rubbish for napping on and Aziraphale went to go see what sort of alcohol Crowley had on hand. By the time he got back with bottle of wine and glasses Crowley had put away plant mister and settled on the couch. Aziraphale took the matching stylish and uncomfortable chair.

Mail got dealt with as they settled into usual routine of drinking and talking. There were various brief lapses in flow of conversation as Crowley paused to actually read some of mail. The hand addressed envelope of carefully labelled seeds and notes sent them off on a long rambling conversation where Crowley did most of the talking about this particular collection of wildflower seeds he’d just gotten. This wasn’t exactly what he usually grew so Aziraphale was interested if this indicated Crowley had an outdoor plot somewhere else and this segued into Crowley apparently was going to use them in some kind of bombs??? And Aziraphale’s sudden deep concern had the demon hastily reassuring him they were more along lines of bath bombs not explosives. Which apparently involved tossing them anywhere he thought they might grow untended, like empty lots and ugly flat roofs.

Didn’t seem that demonic really other than the name. Crowley launched into a fairly convoluted justification of the whole thing’s merits as a wicked plan to cause property damage, attract bugs, and bedevil people with allergies while Aziraphale just got an increasingly fond look on his face at this.

  
“It all sounds very nice” 

“I don’t do nice. That’s you.” It was a very familiar protest, with no real bite behind it anymore.

“Now you can, if you like.”

“I’m a  _ demon _ , nice is not in my nature.” There was more certainty to that one, but an undercurrent of some other emotion as well.

“You’ve been doing nice things for a long time, now you just don’t have to come up with an excuse why for a report.” A pause and then much softer “No more reports at all. No more thwarting. No more Arrangement.”

Crowley inhaled sharply and sat up totally straight, practically humming with tension. He started to splutter something but couldn’t seem to get thoughts to form actual words beyond “Angel…”

Aziraphale looked at him, face softening. “I’m sorry. That sounded… I think we both need a minute.” He looked at Crowley to make sure he was watching and then bent over and untied shoes, taking them off and slipped them under the coffee table. “I am going to the kitchen” 

Crowley stared at the shoes for a full minute while composing himself before taking his own off and carrying both pairs to closet. Aziraphale’s shoes got put in empty cubby in shoe organizer which he’d never filled. For some reason. He stared at empty suit hanger he’d also never used. He hung up his own jacket and vest on the one he did use and stared at the empty one fretting over if he should ask Aziraphale if he wanted to hang up anything. He left it where it was. 

Crowley drifted back to kitchen and ended up hovering in doorway where he could watch Aziraphale cutting up two apples he most certainly hadn’t known were in his kitchen. The apples got cut into thin yellowish slices, carefully splaying them in attractive little whirl on cutting board next to two little stacks of slightly crumbly cheese slices, one white, one a reddish orange. Watched him carefully clean off the knife in tiny sink, dry it, put it away, hang up the towel neatly, and look over area for a moment. Crowley suddenly didn’t want to be seen lurking so pulled back, but apparently made enough noise to get Aziraphale’s attention.

“Crowley?”

“Yeah.” He tried to lean nonchalantly against doorframe.

“I didn’t think I took that long.”

“You didn’t. I just…” Crowley looked away. Slight little sniff as he tried to figure out what to say.

“I was coming back.” It was said so softly.

“I know” equally soft.

“Since you’re here, you can carry this.”

Crowley came into kitchen and picked up cutting board. “Apples, really?” 

“From Adam, I think.”

“Was I supposed to tempt you with these?”

“Did you have someone else in mind?”

Crowley started to say something and then retreated to the living room, hoping Aziraphale didn’t notice flush. He put cutting board on the coffee table and refilled wine. He moved own glass to where it would be easy to reach before sprawling on the couch.

The angel meanwhile resettled on chair. No mention was made of where his shoes had gone.

Aziraphale took some of the apples and cheese from plate to try each separately and then together. Crowley shifted a little so he could watch Aziraphale’s face as angel considered each bite and occasionally made slight little pleased noise. The angel seemed utterly focused on that for the moment, so Crowley was a bit surprised when Aziraphale spoke.

“Would you take them off, please?”

“What?” Even through the dark lens, Aziraphale could see Crowley’s eyes widen, dart downwards, then back come back up to Aziraphale’s face in confusion.

“Your sunglasses”

“Oh. Right. Those.” Aziraphale made a slight exasperated sigh at that and then leaned back with a little hmm noise. Crowley fidgetted at that, not liking where this seemed to be going.

“I’ve always liked your eyes.” That really was not where Crowley thought the conversation was going to go. 

“You don’t.”

“I do.” 

Crowley made a face at that as the tone seemed a little bit as if Aziraphale was mimicing his own voice. “You just want to see if I’m lying.”

“Of course you’re lying, you’re talking.”

“Oi!.” he sniffed “...but s’true.” a slight little shrug.

“I just am not sure if you’re lying to me or to yourself.”

  
Crowley sat up straight, ready to protest and then froze and just slumped. Quiet. Then took his sunglasses off and held them out to Aziraphale while looking at the floor. Aziraphale took them carefully and tucked them in pocket, with a little pat.

Crowley tried looking at something that was not Aziraphale. The downside of a minimalist space was that there wasn’t that much to idly look at when avoiding looking at a person right by you. Who was apparently just waiting patiently and seeing him smile just a little when Crowley finally looked back at him… Crowley decided the only safe thing to look at was his own hands.

“If you can’t tell me something, you could just show me.” Crowley snapped back to looking at him and that was A Mistake as there was his earnest, but nervous, face.

“And what if I’m going too fast?” Crowley was very, very still.

“Well’ Aziraphale now got to be the one looking all flustered. “I’ve told you no so many times before and you’ve always stopped…. I trust you.”

“That’s stupid.”

“Then we’re both stupid.”

Crowley got up, circled round the chair. He grabbed Aziraphale’s lapels and pulled him up roughly, turning the chair at same time. He pulled him up on toes a bit so he could look him clean in the eyes. Aziraphale tilted his head a little and started to lean in…

Crowley pushed him back just a little and let him settle back down on heels. 

“No.”

“No???” Aziraphale seemed a bit shocked. “But…”

“Showing.” He released lapels and smoothed them back down. Hands slid a bit lower and he started to unbutton Aziraphale’s waistcoat. Aziraphale inhaled at that, tensing up. His eyes started to move down to look at Crowley’s hands, but then he’d lose the eye contact that had been so hard to get in first place. They both watched each other’s faces, looking for that sign to stop, but it didn’t come. As soon as the last one was undone, Aziraphale grasped edges and started motion to shrug out of jacket and waistcoat.

“No.” Crowley pulled at both. “On” Aziraphale now got to look just utterly baffled. Crowley just ran hands along open edge of waistcoat, just feeling the fabric for now. He took a little steadying breath before running hands over Aziraphale’s chest so he could tug at the bow tie to undo it. Then make some little frustrated noises at it.

“Here.” Aziraphale brought his hands up to get the process started, tucking his hands under Crowley’s to help without fully displacing them. Once undone, Crowley just rested his hands on Aziraphale’s for a moment before slowly pulling them over to himself and resting Aziraphale’s hands on his chest. Then brought his own back to rest on Aziraphale, trembling a little. He pressed them flat against Aziraphale to steady them.

Aziraphale stroked Crowley very lightly with fingertips where his hands were resting. Crowley rocked forward into it a little, fingers digging into Aziraphale a bit more firmly, but not with purpose. “Please…” 

Aziraphale kept his eyes on Crowley’s face as he worked at unbuttoning shirt with a far steadier hand. Now that he had some slight direction he seemed to have regained some of his composure. Careful, deliberate. Crowley started to unbutton Aziraphale’s as well, though with a lot more fumbling and urgency. He was light with hands, barely touching, like he would need to pull away at any moment.

He slowed as he got towards the bottom, then paused, finally looking down so he could see what to do next. A sharp inhale and then very slowly grasped shirt and pulled up to untuck it. And then had even more buttons to undo…

Aziraphale untucked Crowley’s with a bit more finesse. Aziraphale ran a careful hand across Crowley’s now bare stomach and rested his hand over belt buckle, watching face. A slight little head shake from Crowley and he brought his hands back up. Crowley’s hands hovered along edge of shirt, still not having touched skin except incidentally. Aziraphale made a slight motion like he’d shrug out of shirt and Crowly tugged at him again. “No. On”

Aziraphale blinked at him but let Crowley figure it out. Watched the demon try and keep his face schooled, but clearly was struggling with something.

Mind made up Crowley stepped closer and dipped shoulders a bit so Aziraphale got the hint and helped him out of his shirt. Aziraphale started to step away slightly so he could drape it on chair, but Crowley kept eye contact and grabbed one of his hands and pressed it back to his chest. “Stay” 

Aziraphale kept one hand on him and lightly tossed shirt one handed and caught it on his forearm to fold it neatly in half. A simple movement, but elegant in execution. Aziraphale slid it off his arm and draped it across the arm of the chair he’d been sitting on.

Crowley took his free hand and pushed slightly on Aziraphale’s shoulder, then pointed at the couch. Aziraphale took a careful step back towards it, keeping hand carefully flat on Crowley. The demon wasn’t quite pushing into hand but was eager to move with him. Staying close, but not actually closing the gap just yet.

Aziraphale backed up til legs hit couch and then carefully sat down, sliding hand down Crowley as he settled. Scooted over slightly so Crowley would have plenty of space to sit. Who then mostly just collapsed into the space instead of actually sitting.

Crowley settled his free hand on Aziraphale’s shoulder then slid it down to rest on his chest, under the jacket but with waistcoat and shirt still between them. Took Aziraphale’s hand on chest and slid it slowly sideways to get it out from between them. As soon as it seemed Aziraphale would put hand around his back without guidance, he moved other hand to Aziraphale’s chest, just the shirt between them at this point. Aziraphale moved his other hand to settle into small of Crowley’s back and pulled very slightly. Crowley scooted closer but drew hands back a little so he was barely touching Aziraphale again. Watching face. A slight little bit more pressure from Aziraphale and that was it. Hands moved from outside to inside, just barely grazing Aziraphale’s chest before Crowley slid them all the way around behind and quickly pulled himself into lap.

A pained noise from Aziraphale made him freeze and then start to pull back just as fast. Aziraphale held onto him, not letting him go. 

“Your knee.”

“Oh.” 

Aziraphale shifted hands lower and grabbed Crowley’s belt to turn him half on his side so he’d take weight off the offending leg. Gave him another tug for good measure to pull him closer before settling hands back in small of Crowley’s back.

There’d been the slight pause, but the tug had been all the encouragement Crowley needed to get back on motion. He wasn’t going to be able to really fit entirely in Aziraphale’s lap but he was going to give it a damned good try. A little more adjustment and he had managed to worm his way into position where he had their chests pressed together, arms firmly wrapped around Aziraphale, and improbably half burrowed under Aziraphale’s clothes while they were still mostly on. 

Aziraphale had kept a firm hand on small of Crowley’s back to pull him closer, but had used other hand to adjust edges of clothing once it became semi-clear what Crowley was trying to do. Once Crowley seemed to be settling more of his weight on him, Aziraphale eased up on pressure and switched to just lightly stroking back instead. He slid other hand up and ran his hand up into Crowley’s hair.

“OH.” Aziraphale paused. “Please...” So encouraged he made little circles on Crowley’s scalp and the demon pushed slightly into that making some small, contented noises. Crowley tried to mirror a little bit of that gentle stroking on back, but kept digging his fingers into softness of back instead, like he could pull Aziraphale closer.

Tension slowly drained out of the both of them as minutes passed. As Crowley just slowly melted, Aziraphale started to suspect he might end up with the demon falling asleep on him. The position and the couch weren’t entirely comfortable, but it was also very comfortable in an entirely different sense.

Crowley finally turned his head a bit so Aziraphale could see his face again, though mostly obscured by his own shirt. 

"Couldn't have told you that. With words. Still not sure I could tell you. It’ll all sound stupid."

“Wanting to be held is not stupid.” Aziraphale gave him a slight squeeze.

“Oh… angel….” Crowley rubbed cheek against him. “This is so…. Nice. and a bunch of other four letter words. Good. Cozy. Warm. Soft.”

“And you’re not nice?”

“I’m not.” Crowley curled in, hiding under edge of shirt. He didn’t quite sound like believed that lie either.

“But you’d like something...nice.”

“Someone nice.”

“I think that could be arranged.”

**Author's Note:**

> For those unfamiliar with concept of seed bombs, here you go: https://www.guerrillagardening.org/ggseedbombs.html
> 
> If you enjoyed this and wish to do a podfic recording or translate it to another language, please do! Just drop me a comment so I can link it in the Notes


End file.
